Have you heard the one about the best laid plans of mice and
men? Yeah! That one. Well, it happened to me this Sunday. Last week had been a
hectic one for me work wise and all I had been looking forward to on Sunday was
to sleep long and sleep late and I had left strict instructions with my mother
not to wake me up till ten in the morning on Sunday as I intended to sleep in
till breakfast. My friends from Kilpauk (those who I call my “area” friends)
had called me up on Saturday night proposing a road trip to Konai falls. But I had
just returned from a food walk covering the entire Mint Street and naturally, I
wasn’t too anxious to go on another trip again the very next day. Besides I knew
from past experience how these trips went. One day with MadMax Manoj and the
gang and I would need a week to recover from the aftereffects. These guys never
did anything in half measures, when it came to enjoying, they enjoyed full
time. So I was reasonably sure when I went to sleep that I had made the right
decision in turning down the trip. I didn’t realize that Saturday night, how wrong
I was.
So, imagine my surprise, when my mom shook me awake at around
7 in the morning on Sunday and tells me “Manoj is here waiting for you in the
hall”. Is that the kind of shock you give to someone who is half awake? Barely had
my mom finished her words when the Madmax himself waltzed into my room to
convince me to go on the trip. Well, you have to say this about Manoj, he can
be very convincing when he wants to be. So I got up, got dressed and in half an
hour was packed and ready to go. That packed stuff? An extra pair of boxer
shorts and my passport, for when you got out with Manoj you can never be sure
where you will end up before returning. Carrying a passport helps in
emergencies; to cross back national borders you might end up the wrong side of.
He organizes that kind of get-togethers, the kind which will bleach the hairs
of any fainthearted.
Once in the car, after meeting and greeting the old gang, Prakash,
Bala and Arun, we decided to let Manoj do the driving, because that’s the only
way to irritate bala, who thinks he is the best driver of us all. Having someone
else drive, drives Bala nuts. And the trip was off to a fine start. We took the
old Tirupati high road route past Vilivakkam, Tiruvalur, Sulurpet and Tada to
head towards Konai falls. It was drizzling outside and we hoped that it was a
local thing, climbing up those hill paths, up the slippery slopes, after the
rains would be pretty dicey. Meanwhile, the curse of modern technology caught
up with us and everyone started checking their mobile phones for mails and
chats and updates. Prakash it was, who first discovered that the Sunday was
supposed to be “National topless Day” and immediately the crazy dude suggested
we all take off our shirts to show solidarity and go on in just the under
vests. I begged, literally begged them to postpone this decision, till at least
we crossed the city limits, for once on the highway no one would mind whatever these
shameless guys did. I didn’t want to be caught by the traffic police in a car
full of half-naked crazy guys. Beside these dudes were all long past their
youth, they were now middle aged men, with paunches and not a pretty sight
topless.
Meanwhile Bala was having a hot and bothersome fight with his
ex. He had spent a long time staring over into my mobile phone while I had
replied to a few FB notifications. So in revenge I happened to peek,
accidentally, over into his chat messaging with his ex-girlfriend. And this is what
I saw (true story): “you don’t intimate me anymore” Bala was sending. I couldn’t
help falling and rolling over in laughter. I tweeted to him (for better effect
than saying it out loud)- “Yeah dude. She doesn’t Intimate you. That’s why she
is your ex. But she sure as hell, Intimidates you- making you commit spelling
mistakes even when you chat.” He turned and frowned at me and then shut off his
mobile for the rest of the journey.
We finally reached the Tada hills around two and a half hours
later (stopped for breakfast along the way) and then to our surprise found some
new improvements. The way unto the falls had steps constructed unlike the last
time we had been there. The old path, which ran straight unto the top of the
hill, still ran beside the steps, which were built only up to the falls. So we
climbed up the steps to the falls. Halfway up, we saw a group of locals
standing around in the path and pointing to something. When we stopped to look
too, we saw two figures hurrying on up the steep hill slope, way past the falls
and they seemed to be heading for the top of the peak. It was still drizzling a
little, so we couldn’t make them out clearly, but one of them seemed to be a
little way in the front, while the other was rushing behind as if to catch up. When
we asked the people there they said that the one in the front was someone who
had experienced a love failure and was now rushing up to the peak to commit
suicide, while the second one was his friend hurrying behind to stop him. Seriously,
do people nowadays commit suicide for love failures? I had thought that kind of
true love had long disappeared. This news kind of sobered our party mood and we
went up the rest of the way to the falls, debating the pros and cons of love
failure.
Well anyway, when we reached the falls and stripped, the mood
lifted again and we spent a glorious two hours bathing and playing under the
falls, which was thankfully not much crowded, despite being a Sunday because it
was raining?. We left reluctantly after having had a fun get-together after
such a long time. And once we got down to the foot of the hill, we stopped to
have a tender coconut. The coconut seller told us that it was customary for
people who bathed at the falls to visit the local Devi Temple. So, we decided
to follow local customs and went on to the temple situated just behind the
falls. Just before the entrance to the temple we saw the ground was full of
puddles of red Sindoor water (Kumkum as it is known locally) which is commonly given
as an offering to any Goddess (Amman) temple in South India. It was only when
we entered the temple and glanced around to see a severed goats head staring at
us and people doing pooja with the offering, that we realized that what we took
for Sindoor-Water was actually blood from the goat sacrifice. And I thought such customs had been long
wiped out in our temples.
After hurriedly worshipping there, we took the road back to
madras, as we were all extremely hungry by then and wanted to find some good
hotel to have lunch. We finally found one near Periapalyam and after lunch, Bala
got his chance to drive at last. He drove us back to Chennai and dropped me off
at home. Just as we split up, we promised each other that we should do this
more often, seeing how much we enjoyed this and all, but you know what? These kinds
of road trips never happen with much planning. As Manoj said, the best trips
are the spontaneous ones. He can say that authoritatively- because he never
stays in one company for long unlike the rest of us- he is too spontaneous even
in going to work.
(P.S. I have left out a lot of the interesting conversational
bits and a few truly wacky stunts the guys pulled during the trip, because this
blog is intended for general public viewing. And that’s why I haven’t put any
photos too, for who wants to see paunchy, middle- aged dudes, bathing topless? Until
my friends develop bodies like Hrithik Roshan, I am not putting their photos on
my blog)
haha! Funny! But killing goats? seriously?!
ReplyDeleteIn Erode when I stayed there it was a custom to sacrifice a goat kid at every function at home in the town..good or bad....Kada vetti biriyani for all! Used to hate that! and still do! Tada falls? Sounds cool!
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